Hickory

On that hickory grove, where we used to meet

Where the branches bare and the willows weep

There stood a man, like six foot three

With these charcoal eyes and sympathy

He took my hand on bended knee

Looked me in the eye and said to thee

My god of love up in a tree

These snarled limbs and history

He stood among us all in his grief

His towered form eclipsing all but me

My bark and bite and all that I've seen

Will lead me back to you, Old Hickory